


To Postpone That Kind of Thing

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dentistry, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Painkillers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire takes Enjolras to get his wisdom teeth taken out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Postpone That Kind of Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a Johnny Depp quote: "Trips to the dentist - I like to postpone that kind of thing."
> 
> Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.

“What kind of self-respecting twenty-five year-old still has his wisdom teeth?” Grantaire asked Enjolras, amused.

Enjolras scowled, looking anything but amused. “The kind who barely finds time to go to the dentist, let alone the time to spend a week recovering from major dental surgery,” he snapped, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Now will you pick me up from the oral surgeon’s or not?”

Grantaire continued grinning, not taken aback at all by Enjolras’s attitude (then again, there didn’t seem to be a time when Grantaire didn’t thrive on Enjolras’s disdain towards him). “Tell me, dearest Apollo, how did I draw the short straw for picking you up from getting your wisdom teeth pulled anyway? Did everyone else have something so pressing that they couldn’t spare an hour for the Noble Leader? What kind of dedication to the cause are they exhibiting?”

Grinding his teeth together, Enjolras told him sourly, “I haven’t asked anyone else. You’re the only person I know for a fact doesn’t have class or work during that time, so you wouldn’t be able to beg off. All I ask is that you show up on time and sober.”

Something in Grantaire’s face had softened when Enjolras said he hadn’t asked anyone else, and he said quietly, “For you, I would never have begged off regardless.”

A slightly awkward silence fell between them before Grantaire cleared his throat and said quickly, “Anyway, I will be there. Sober. And on time. I hope you know that we’ll be using your car, because I don’t have one of my own.”

“Of course,” Enjolras said smoothly. “That was always the intention.”

Grantaire stood, tapping his fingers almost nervously on the table in the Musain. “So if you didn’t want anything else…”

Enjolras stood as well. “Right. Yes. I mean, no, that’s all I wanted. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nodding, Grantaire started to say something, then changed his mind. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.” He turned to leave, then stopped, turning back slightly. “Oh, and Apollo? I know you don’t normally sleep, or eat, or anything that’s remotely healthy for you, but, uh, you’re probably going to want to get a good night’s sleep tonight. Just to be on the safe side.”

Then he was gone, calling over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow!” as Enjolras just stared after him, feeling like this was simultaneously the best idea in the world and the worst idea of all time. Either way it was too late now to do anything about it, so with a sigh, Enjolras began gathering his things together so that he could head home, and maybe get a good night’s sleep. Not because Grantaire suggested it, of course. Just…because.

* * *

 

True to his word, Grantaire showed up promptly at Enjolras’s door the next day, eyes red-rimmed from sleep only, as he assured Enjolras, brushing past him into his apartment and to his kitchen. Enjolras followed after him, eyebrows raised. “Are you looking for something in particular?” he asked, leaning against the wall and watching as Grantaire drifted through his kitchen.

“Coffee,” Grantaire said shortly, making a whining noise in the back of his throat when he saw the coffee maker shoved in a corner of the counter, clearly switched off and empty.

When he turned to Enjolras, his expression pitiful, Enjolras couldn’t help but laugh. “I wasn’t supposed to eat or drink anything after eight, so I didn’t think about making coffee for you. I’m sorry.”

Grantaire waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine. Really. Totally fine. We’ll just have to stop by Starbucks on the way or something.”

Enjolras’s mouth tightened into a thin line as soon as the word “Starbucks” came out of Grantaire’s mouth, but it was in a carefully controlled voice that he suggested, “Or I know this great little cafe along the way that we can stop at. They sell a lot of organic, free-trade coffee. And, miraculously, it’s  _still_ cheaper than Starbucks.”

Laughing loudly, Grantaire shrugged. “If it’s that important to you. Coffee is coffee is coffee. So long as it’s tall and dark.”

“The way you like your men?” Enjolras couldn’t but tease.

To his surprise, Grantaire blushed slightly as he murmured, “No, I tend to prefer my men on the lighter side.”

Awkwardness again fell between them until Enjolras cleared his throat and said quickly, “Well, if we’re going to be stopping by the coffee shop, we better be on our way. Thanks again for agreeing to drive me.”

“Not a problem,” Grantaire said easily, ushering Enjolras towards the door. “I’m just planning on taking pictures of you drooling with swollen cheeks and using them for blackmail later.” At Enjolras’s answering glare, Grantaire assured him quickly, “Kidding, kidding!”

Not even half an hour later, Grantaire had enough caffeine in him to power a small army, and they were both in the waiting area of the oral surgeon’s, Grantaire browsing through a several months-old issue of National Geographic while Enjolras tapped a nervous cadence against the arm of his chair. Finally, the nurse called Enjolras’s name, and he stood, looking back at Grantaire. “So I’ll see you after?” he asked, almost as if he doubted Grantaire would still be there.

Grantaire stood as well, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets. “Of course,” he promised, his voice soothing, and then, before Enjolras could say anything or leave with the nurse, Grantaire darted forward to kiss Enjolras on the cheek, promising breathlessly, “For luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Enjolras told him, though he was bright red. “I have modern medicine on my side.” Nonetheless, he smiled at Grantaire before disappearing after the nurse as Grantaire settled in to wait for Enjolras to be done.

Grantaire was asleep when the nurse woke him; as it turned out, not even the largest coffee available would make up for a night without sleep, and Grantaire had hardly slept the night before, tossing and turning and imagining Enjolras after getting his wisdom teeth taken out. Would Enjolras be the kind of person who said ridiculous, embarrassing things while on laughing gas and whatever else, or would he just be quiet and docile for once?

Well, now was Grantaire’s chance to find out, and he followed the nurse into the backroom, where Enjolras was propped up waiting for him. His eyes lit up as he saw Grantaire and he grinned as best he could with the cotton in his mouth. “Grantaire,” he said, reaching out. “C’mere.”

Helpless as always against a command from Enjolras, Grantaire crossed over to him, letting Enjolras take his hand. “I missed you,” Enjolras slurred, beaming up at him. “I told the nurse all about you.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at the nurse, who just shrugged. “He really did,” she said, filling something out on Enjolras’s chart. “Wouldn’t stop talking about you, in fact.”

Switching his gaze to Enjolras, Grantaire asked, “Oh, really?”

Enjolras nodded enthusiastically. “Yesssss,” he insisted, squeezing Grantaire’s hand so slightly that his eyes watered. “I wanted to tell her all about you and how amazing you are and how wonderful you are and how you came with me when you didn’t have to and that’s wonderful and I’m really, really happy.”

Grantaire bit back a chuckle as he told him, “Dude, you’re  _so_  high right now.”

“I am not!” Enjolras insisted, trying to stand and falling back on his seat.

The nurse half-rose from her seat in concern but Grantaire waved her off, instead sitting next to him. “Ok, so you’re not high. But sit your ass down and stay down until the nurse says you’re free to go.”

Enjolras burrowed his head against Grantaire’s shoulders, wrapping his arms around Grantaire’s waist. “Will you take me to the Musain?” he asked, his voice high and clear despite still slurring from whatever the doctor had given him. “I have something important to tell everyone.”

Grantaire frowned. “Are you sure you want to go now? You’re probably not in the, uh, best frame of mind right now.”

“i’m totally sure,” Enjolras informed him enthusiastically. “They need to know what I’m about to tell them.”

He went back to drooling on Grantaire’s shirt, and Grantaire, unable to tell him no even then, sighed and said, “Well, just as soon as the nurse says that you’re cleared to go, I’ll take you to the Musain and then I’ll take you home, alright?”

Enjolras nodded mutely against him, and a few minutes later, the nurse handed Grantaire a list of aftercare instructions, telling him, “Take your boyfriend home as soon as you can. He’s likely to be out of it for the rest of the day, and he’s going to need someone to look after him. All the antibiotic and painkiller instructions are on the paper, so just follow that when he seems to need another dose.”

Grantaire smiled at her, unwilling to inform her that Enjolras was far from his boyfriend, was just a friend, instead savoring the few minutes here where people could believe that Enjolras would actually fall from someone like him. He nudged Enjolras gently. “You ready to get out of here?”

“So ready,” Enjolras said enthusiastically, though this time, he waited for Grantaire to stand and pull Enjolras to his feet. “You’re taking me to the Musain, right?”

Rolling his eyes, Grantaire carefully led Enjolras out of the building, helping him into the passenger seat of the car. “If you really insist that it’s  _that_ important that I take you there, I don’t suppose I have any choice, do I?”

Enjolras shook his head firmly. “You really don’t.”

They spent the ride over to the Musain in relative silence, though Enjolras seemed to want to touch Grantaire as much as he could still, gripping Grantaire’s knee with one hand in a way that was most distracting to Grantaire’s driving.  By the time they reached the Musain, Enjolras was once again grinning at Grantaire while Grantaire was trying rather unsuccessfully to ignore anything from Enjolras’s side of the car.

Once they arrived, Grantaire helpled Enjolras up the stairs, where most of Les Amis were relaxing, not expecting Enjolras to appear. Once he did, however, all conversation fell into hushed silence as Enjolras staggered to the front of the room, his cheeks swollen to at least twice their usual size. “Citizens,” he announced loudly, “I have something to say.”

He paused to aim a smile at Grantaire, before saying, “Grantaire is absolutely wonderful. The best of all of you, I’m sorry to say. And I think I may be in love with him.”

The silence after that announcement was astounding, until Bossuet cleared his throat and stood, telling Enjolras softly, “I think maybe it’s time to take you home.”

Enjolras tried to protest at first, reaching out towards Grantaire, saying, “Taire, you’re coming with me, right?”

Grantaire just shook his head, having sat down at the table in shock, his chest feeling three times too small to support his lungs. “Um, no. Bossuet’s going to, uh, to take you home.”

Though Enjolras pouted, he allowed himself to dragged off, gently, by Bossuet, and he called to Grantaire, “Come and visit me later!”

Grantaire sat in stunned silence as the general conversation slowly picked up around him. Combeferre sat down across from him, looking at him evenly. “Dare I ask what that little announcement was about?”

Grantaire swallowed and shook his head. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

Combeferre looked at him carefully. “I don’t want you to somehow get the wrong impression from this entire thing.”

“He was medicated,” Grantaire told Combeferre hollowly, trying his best to not sound any different than normal. “He didn’t have any idea what he was saying. And I certainly wouldn’t hold it against him regardless. So you have nothing to worry about.”

Combeferre just frowned at him slightly as he stood. “Well, I’m glad you won’t hold it against him.” He paused, hand resting against the table, before saying, almost reluctantly, “Just don’t…don’t think that he didn’t mean it. Drugs or no drugs. Enjolras may not always be forthcoming, but he wouldn’t lie.”

Grantaire stared after him before asking in a strangled voice, “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

But Combeferre had already turned away to make conversation with Courfeyrac, leaving a very confused Grantaire behind, staring at the grain of the wood table as if it might miraculously explain not only Enjolras’s medicated nonsense but also Combeferre’s cryptic words. It offered little explanation, and Grantaire stood with a sigh before announcing to the group at large, “I’m going to make sure Enjolras got home ok.”

No said anything in particular to that, though Grantaire thought he heard Bahorel sigh as he left, “Fucking finally…”

Then he was gone, on his way to Enjolras’s, where he intended to wait out the night until Enjolras was no longer on any drugs whatsoever. And then, maybe, they would talk. Until then, Grantaire would be there, as he always was. That was his lot in life; it wasn’t a lot, but it was his life. And whatever else may happen…Well, he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.


End file.
